


Come Clean

by Xie



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-16
Updated: 2014-07-16
Packaged: 2018-02-09 04:37:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1969350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xie/pseuds/Xie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How Kinnetik does a public health campaign and Justin's ass saves the world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Come Clean

**Author's Note:**

> Set in the same universe as "Just Another Day at Kinnetik."

Brian rested his head on his palm, and groaned. "Remind me again, Theodore, why I don't just fire every fucking incompetent asshole who works here?"  
  
Ted didn't even glance up from his computer. "Because you'd have to do all the work yourself?"  
  
Brian snorted. "At least then it would be done right. I'm not seeing a downside."  
  
Ted still didn't turn his head. "Other than the loss of the $37 million the account executives other than Cynthia and you brought in during the last quarter, there isn't any."  
  
Brian paused. "Not a completely immaterial point, Theodore. I knew I kept you around for a reason."  
  
Ted finished his calculations, pushed back his chair, and carried his laptop over to Brian's desk. "Yeah, well, here's another reason you keep me around."  
  
Brian gazed at the screen with its long line of figures and notations. He scrolled down, and down, and down, until the final number, with its many, many commas, appeared at the bottom of the page.  
  
Since Ted was smiling hard enough for both of them, Brian just nodded. "Not bad."  
  
"NOT BAD? Brian… it's more than not bad. It's…"  
  
"Phenomenal, brilliant, inspirational, fabulous, stupendous. Yes, I'm in advertising, I know all those words. Give yourself a bonus, buy yet another European sports car, hell, buy a plane. But before you do, would you find the person whose idea it was to take this 'Stop MRSA in the gay community' campaign and fire him?"  
  
"That would be me."  
  
Brian stared at him. "What the fuck did you do that for?"  
  
"To give back to the community?"  
  
Brian kept staring.  
  
"Michael asked me to talk to them."  
  
Brian pinched between his eyes. "Theodore, how many times have I told you, the only thing worse than doing good deeds is doing them for friends?"  
  
Ted tipped his head to the side. "Never, actually."  
  
Brian stood up, pushing his chair back with enough force to send it crashing into the wall behind him. "An oversight for which I'm now paying by having to retool – pardon the expression – this narcoleptic ad campaign telling gay men to… what? Wash their hands?"  
  
Ted's smile was strained. "Why don't we just tell Cullan…"  
  
Brian cut him off. "Yes, by all means, let's tell Cuthbert a thing or two. Get him in here."  
  
"Are you sure you want to…"  
  
"Tie him to the rafters and shove these storyboards up his ass?"  
  
"Crush his spirit, I was going to say."   
  
Brian's face broke into a feral smile. "Oh, yes, Theodore. I'm sure. Now, bring him in."  
  
Ted scurried away, and Brian carried the storyboards over to the glass conference table, where he spread them out, each one positioned under a pinpoint halogen spotlight. He adjusted the bowl of apples so it cast the glow of its perfection and symmetry over the pale, glossy artwork.  
  
"Hey." It was Justin, walking in the door like he owned the place, portfolio slung over his shoulder.  
  
Brian looked up from where he was adjusting the position of a storyboard one one-hundredth of a centimeter to the left. "Hey." Then he very slightly moved another apple.  
  
Justin raised an eyebrow, and tugged his bag over his head, dumping it haphazardly on the table in front of the sofa. He walked over to Brian, shedding his jacket as he went, then dropped it over one of the sleek conference table chairs.  
  
Brian watched him, amused, and let himself be pulled into a messy, wet, hair-clutching kiss. When they broke apart, Brian's tie was slipping, his hair looked like he'd just gotten out of bed, and his lips were red and swollen. Justin grinned up at him.  
  
Brian laughed, and bumped his forehead against Justin's. "Don't think," he said, "that I don't see right through you."  
  
"As always," Justin responded, lightly. He glanced down at the table. "What's this? A new campaign?"  
  
An expression of painful distaste passed over Brian's face as he finished smoothing his hair and straightening his tie. "This is a proposed campaign to stop the spread of flesh-eating bacteria in the gay community."  
  
Justin walked around the table, contemplating. "Protect yourself and your partner. Wash your hands before and after sex." He wrinkled his nose. "Wow. 'Your partner.' Singular. How very… " He paused, searching for the right word.  
  
"Lame? Naïve? Inappropriate?"  
  
Justin nodded, his lower lip caught between his teeth. He picked up one of the boards. "Sterile. Boring. Flat."  
  
They both turned when Ted cleared his throat behind them. A dark-haired man, obviously young, clearly terrified, stood behind him. His face was bright red, but the minute Brian and Justin's eyes were on him, he paled.  
  
"Culligan…" Brian began.  
  
"Cu... Cu… Cullan, sir," he almost-whispered.  
  
"Please, tell us what you were thinking when you designed this campaign." Brian beckoned him over. Ted almost dragged him to the table.  
  
Cullan took a deep, shaking breath. "I modeled it on a similar successful campaign for health care workers…"  
  
Justin started counting in his head, and before he got to three, Brian had cut him off. "Health care workers. Who have so much in common with men spreading MRSA infections in the backroom of Babylon and at the Liberty Baths."  
  
Cullan's face turned bright red again. "I thought…"  
  
Justin walked over to Brian's desk and pretended to be doing something on the computer. Cullan looked towards Ted for help, but he had his eyes fixed on the storyboards, or possibly the apples.  
  
"Corbett, let me explain something to you." Brian gestured towards a chair, and Cullan dropped into it, trembling. "There are only two ways to sell anything. One is with sex, and the other is with sex." He heard a small noise of protest from Justin, but he ignored it.  
  
Brian poked a long finger into the center of one of the storyboards. "Where," he said accusingly, "is the sex?"  
  
____________________________________  
  
Brian leaned back against the tile wall, the hot water of the shower beating down on his bare skin. He tangled his fingers in Justin's wet hair, clenching them tightly as Justin's mouth, wetter than the water, moved around and over and under and up and down his cock. He felt Justin's hands gripping the backs of his thighs, and he groaned as he came.  
  
He looked down, and Justin was licking him, little bits of come and water vanishing where his tongue flicked over Brian's skin and pubes. His heart was still beating hard.  
  
Justin glanced up at him through the steamy air. He blinked his eyes, the water beading on his lashes. Brian was suddenly struck with how beautiful he looked, wet and naked and kneeling, his lips swollen and dark from the blowjob, the water running down his head and face and body in little streams.  
  
Justin grinned up at him. "What?"  
  
Brian shook his head, holding out his hand and tugging Justin up against his body. Justin's smile got a little brighter. Brian wrapped his arms around him, and the two stood under the spray until the water started to feel cool. Brian turned it off with a sigh, and tossed a towel to Justin.  
  
Justin was bending over drying his calves when he glanced into the steamy mirror and caught sight of Brian staring raptly at his still-wet ass. "No. Absolutely no way."  
  
Brian looked at him, startled. "What?"  
  
Justin dropped his towel, walked right up to Brian, and put both his hands on his shoulders. He spoke slowly and clearly. "You are not putting any more pictures of my ass in your ad campaigns. No matter how good the cause. No matter how educational."  
  
"Even," Brian said, gazing deeply into Justin's eyes, "if it will save lives?"  
  
Justin swallowed. Justin frowned. Justin actually scowled. "Brian. I admit I have a great ass. But it's not capable of beating back death."  
  
Brian put his hands on either side of Justin's face, and gazed at him. "Don't sell yourself short, Justin."  
  
"I don't intend to sell myself at all." Justin's lip was pouting in a way Brian found adorable when it was aimed at anyone other than him.   
  
Brian sighed, and let go of his face. "It was just an idea."  
  
__________________________  
  
A week later, Justin pushed open the door to Kinnetik, having received a somewhat cryptic phone call from Brian asking him to stop by that afternoon. He nodded at the receptionist and went into Brian's office.   
  
And stopped. And stared at one of the most beautiful – and biggest – storyboards he'd ever seen. Easily the size of a small billboard, it dominated the far wall. It was glistening in shades of steel blue and gray, glass shower walls, naked skin sparkling with water, hands entwined, clenching on each other.  
  
Hands that Justin recognized very well, since one of them was his, and one of them belonged to the man sitting at the desk watching him.  
  
Justin shook his head. "What the fuck…. You set up a camera in our shower? And didn't tell me?"  
  
Brian stood up and gestured at the poster. "What do you think? As an artist?"  
  
"As an artist I'm fucking furious that my naked picture is yet again being used in an ad campaign, and that my partner thought it was perfectly reasonable to take my picture while we fucked in the shower without telling me." Justin stared at the image a little longer. "Okay, that was my opinion as a human being. As an artist, it's…"  
  
"Hot? Wet? Compelling?"  
  
Justin walked closer. The image was simple enough: two men, clearly fucking, their faces out of the frame. But the contact between them was visceral, urgent. You could almost feel the hot water pouring down their bodies, hear the slap of balls against ass.   
  
And across the bottom, in big, bold type, "The best protection against MRSA is soap and water. Come clean."  
  
Justin turned and looked at Brian, frowning. "Who printed this?"  
  
Brian gazed at him, sincerity all over his face. "Lesbian graphic artists in Harrisburg." He paused. "I suppose it wouldn't really be believable if I told you they were blind, too?"  
  
"Seriously. Who did this?"  
  
Brian handed him a business card for a lesbian graphic design firm in Harrisburg. "They have no idea who you are. Or me. I don't think they know what MRSA is, and I'm not quite sure they knew what we were doing in these photos."  
  
"Photos, plural?" Justin's voice raised.  
  
Brian held up his hand. "No one's seen them but me."  
  
"And now me." Justin was determined.  
  
Brian gestured at his laptop, and Justin stalked over to the desk and sat down. He flipped through the images without saying anything.  
  
Brian watched the flickering light from the computer on Justin's face. He watched Justin's teeth nipping at his lip. He watched Justin's tongue peek out, just the tip, and then his lips part.  
  
He watched Justin shift in his seat. And finally, he watched Justin lift his eyes to look at him. "Wow."  
  
Brian smiled. "And you thought your ass couldn't beat back death."  
  
_________________________  
  
Ted walked into Brian's office later that day. He stood looking at the poster, still showcased against the far wall. He jumped when he heard a voice from the doorway behind him.  
  
"Fantasizing about fleshly glories you can never know or even comprehend, Theodore?" Brian walked over to his desk and dropped a pile of papers on its otherwise gleamingly empty surface.  
  
Ted glanced at Brian and shook his head. "Who, me?" He looked back at the ad. "I'm just admiring the composition and colors, as well as the power and simplicity of the message."  
  
A snort was all he expected in response. And it was all he got. He retrieved the papers Brian had laid on the desk, and headed for the door.  
  
Brian's voice stopped him. "One more thing, Theodore."  
  
Ted turned around and waited.   
  
"Don't forget to wash your hands."


End file.
